


Chimerical

by amusewithaview



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Portals, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vampire Slayer(s), dhampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:56:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Buffy had a slightly different, infinitely better, reason for leaving town and not coming back after killing Angel at the end of season two?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. diner girl

Buffy walked to the back and sagged quietly against the counter. Don, one of the cooks, frowned at her, jerking his head towards the door to the back alley and mouthing 'Need some air?' She shook her head wordlessly and put her hand against her gently rounding stomach in answer. He nodded and turned back to the fries he was scooping out onto the plates.

The waitressing job sucked, really. The hours were long and the customers didn't tip for shit, but the people she worked with, well, they were nice. The owner of Bob's Diner – a short, rounded little man with glasses and a perpetual squint – was largely indifferent to her, but he stepped in when necessary with  _all_  the girls, and that made him pretty awesome compared to some of the sleazebags out there. The other girls, ranging from chain-smoking Sarah to bright-'n-bubbly Carla, chipped in to take on the really bad tables in her sections when they could.

Buffy wouldn't call them family, she'd had that back in Sunnydale, but they were…  _there_  for her. They helped out when and where it was feasible, not expecting anything in return. They asked her how she was, and recommended free clinics where people didn't ask questions when her condition became apparent. Don and Charlie slipped her little snacks throughout the day, 'extras' that would 'go to waste' otherwise. Her diner-friends was keeping her sane, and for that they would always hold a special place in her heart.

The Slayer sighed deeply, fisting one hand and rubbing it firmly in the small of her back. It was nearing the end of her shift; she was in from the 4:00AM breakfast crowd through the two o'clock lunch rush. Bob tried to give her good shifts, and she'd basically told him straight-up that she preferred the morning or late-night shifts whenever possible. The day shift from eight to four might be busier, but she needed something to occupy the dark hours… the hours when she would usually Slay.

She tried to get out and do a round of the cemeteries once or twice a week, but L.A. was large and she was small, though getting bigger. After a few weeks she'd given up on trying to patrol more than a few block's radius of her apartment and workplace. She glanced down at her growing problem and knew that pretty soon she'd have to give up on the Slayage entirely.

If someone had told her this time last year that she would be pregnant with the child of a vampire, she would have punched them. If someone had told her that she'd be living in a shitty little apartment after having been kicked out by her mom, she would have told them they weren't funny, and  _then_  punched them. Buffy wasn't sure if these responses were indicative of the ridiculousness of her situation or a tendency to solve problems with violence.

It was true, though. She was pregnant with Angel's –  _not_  Angelus's,  _never_  Angelus's – child. She was about five months along and really starting to show, having just recently 'popped'. The baby was healthy, or as healthy as could be expected. She refused ultra-sound or any sort of testing that was even remotely invasive, citing religious differences when pressed, hell – she wouldn't even let the nurse at the clinic use a  _stethoscope_. Who knew what would pop up? The kid was the spawn of a Slayer and a vampire, something that wasn't even supposed to exist.

Add in the fact that Angelus had been  _attracted to_  and constantly commenting on her changing scent as the pregnancy progressed – though thankfully he'd never put two and two together – and she'd been pretty much certain that what was growing inside of her was Sunnydale's own equivalent to "Rosemary's Baby".

For the first few months, Buffy hadn't even referred to the child  _as_  a baby – especially not in her own mind. It was always an 'it' or a 'creature', and she was starting to scrounge up her money for a quick-and-dirty abortion when something happened that changed all her feelings. In the seventh week of her pregnancy, after she'd killed Angel and just before she'd jumped on the bus, she'd felt something that made her whole body go still.

 _Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump…_  It came from low in her belly and resounded through her whole body. She'd been pregnant for almost two months, known for about one, and for the very first time she  _felt_  it. She felt the child growing inside of her; she felt the heartbeat keeping time with her own.

In that one moment Buffy's entire life shattered into pieces. Her face was wet when she got on the bus, tears she didn't even notice through her shock soaking her front. She was crying for her broken family, for Angel, for herself, and for the little piece of person growing inside of her. What was she going to do?  _What was she going to do?_

She was  _pregnant_.

She was going to have a  _baby_.

She was going to be a  _mother_.

Her thoughts had reorganized themselves around this new responsibility rather quickly. She was the Slayer, her duty was to destroy the forces of darkness, not for the sake of their destruction, but in order to  _protect_. That realization was what had allowed her to live so long without succumbing to despair or becoming an automaton like Kendra. She had something to protect. At first it was her family, then it was her friends, and now it was the baby. The fragile life inside of her, completely dependent upon her for everything, was her new priority.

Because of the baby, she had to cut back on the Slaying and stake out an actual territory. Because of the baby, she was meditating and working on her Slayer senses, finally taking to heart the more boring training exercises Giles had tried to force through her skull. Because of the baby, she couldn't go back to the Hellmouth, no matter what. Because of the baby, she couldn't contact her friends or family – they  _would_  force her to return, might even force her to get rid of her child, if only because it was also Angel's child.

Buffy didn't know what being half-vampire would mean for her baby. She couldn't even research it, she was never 'net girl' like Willow, and her access to reliable information on the occult was nil. She didn't know the shops in L.A. and even if she did, she didn't dare go and be recognized for what she was.

It was terrifying. Not just the knowledge that she was  _pregnant_  and  _responsible_ , but the helpless  _not-knowing_  that plagued her. Sure, the kid was healthy, so far as the clinic could tell, but healthy for a human? For a vampire? Would her child be normal, or Slayer-ish? Would it be born with yellow eyes and a crinkly forehead?

Scariest of all, would any of that matter to her?

 _No,_  she decided, on that long bus trip to L.A.  _It really wouldn't_. Her world had been re-ordered around a lump of cells and potential barely the size of her thumb, and she couldn't – wouldn't – change that. If it meant giving up the Slayage, so be it. If it meant giving up her family, then sure. Her baby was the most important thing in the world.

Buffy smiled down at her growing problem and loosened her apron strings.

"Gonna need to get a large soon, blondie," Sarah told her as she put up a few more orders.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, smoothing her hand over her stomach.

"Gettin' real big there, girly. You sure there's not more than one in there?"

Buffy's eyes went wide, "Better not be!"

Sarah chuckled, "I'm sure they'd pick up on that by now." She flicked her apron at the younger woman, "You got tables, shoo!"

The Slayer rolled her eyes and sidled out of the kitchen, heading towards a table with two unkempt teens, one of whom looked oddly familiar…


	2. doorways

Buffy looked at the boy and girl – she couldn't call them a man and a woman, they were too young in the eyes – and smiled brightly. It was the sort of smile you gave an aunt or an uncle when they asked about your plans for the future: bright and vague.

"What can I get you two?"

The boy looked up, smiling even as he snuggled closer to his blonde sweetheart, "Uh… we'll have – " he leaned back, reaching his free hand (the one not firmly clasping the girl's) deep into his pocket and coming out with a handful of crumpled bills and loose change. He looked from the rather scant money to the girl beside him and smiled sheepishly, "Um, two coffees? Yeah, and could we look at whatever specials you have? We kinda blew our cash on the tattoos…" His gaze fell to his arm, lined up with the girl's, and Buffy's eyes couldn't help but follow. There spread across their forearms was a bloody red heart with swirly script spelling out "Lily" and "Ricky" with the names of the respective persons reflected on their significant other's arm.

"Cute," Buffy said, and it really was. Impractical and probably stupid, but cute. "So you'll need a minute?"

"Yeah," he smiled dopily at her; he couldn't seem to help himself.

"'Kay," she turned and started away, stopping when a hand touched her shoulder. It was the blonde half of the 'young lovers,' looking at her with an anxious expression and worrying a thoroughly chewed lower lip. "Yes?"

"Do you… remember me? You saved me," she hurried on, "I was one of the kids at that club…" Seeing Buffy's blank expression she continued even more hastily: "The one that worshipped the," she stopped to look around, then whispered, "the  _Lonely Ones?_  Remember?"

The pregnant blonde blinked and then it came back: Ford, the plot, Spike. Not one of her better moments, weeks, whatever. What she remembered most about the incident was Giles's lovely little speech, his beautiful lie. She sighed, life really sucked sometimes. 'Sometimes' meaning: more often than not.

Seeing that the blonde was still looking for some sort of affirmation, Buffy smiled weakly. What were the odds that someone from Sunnydale would come into  _her_ diner? Well, knowing her luck, pretty darn good, actually. "Yeah, I remember… but weren't you going by a different name then? Chancy tell, or something like that?"

"Chantarelle. Yeah. I'm different now, with Ricky."

Buffy smiled, trying to make it genuine, "Good for you."

"What are you doing here, though?" She frowned, "Is there some sort of club like that in L.A?"

"Probably," the blonde replied, shooting for blunt honesty. "Even if there is, it's not really my jurisdiction anymore."  _That's putting it mildly._  She shifted her hand to her belly meaningfully, grimacing slightly when Lily's eyes widened dramatically. "My priorities have… shifted."

"Then who's doing what you – you know – what you normally do?"

"I dunno, but the world hasn't ended yet," Buffy said flippantly. She turned to go again, thoroughly finished with this particular conversation. It was only slapping her in the face with all the things she didn't have,  _couldn't_  have, all the things that she had given up and all the things that she would have to give up in the future. She knew she wouldn't really change anything, but that didn't make the sacrifices any less than what they were:  _sacrifices_.

Lily was apparently not done: "I didn't mean anything bad by it! I – I just wanted to say th-thank you. A-and good luck." She gestured to Buffy's baby-belly, nothing but genuine good will in her eyes, "Good luck with the baby, you're going to be a great mom." Giving the Slayer another shy, sweet smile, she turned back to her booth and the waiting Ricky.

Buffy watched her go, a troubled look playing across her face.

 _How do you know?_

00000

Buffy grimaced down at the demon she'd just squashed before turning back to Lily and the others. They were all staring at her with a mixture of shock and awe, though Lily was actually smiling a little. The blonde even took a few steps forward:

"Gandhi?" she asked softly.

"Well, you know. If he was suffering from pregnancy hormones."

The sound of running footsteps and clanking metal – probably armor or weapons of some sort – caused all of them to tense. Without direction from the Slayer they were running away as fast as they could. Buffy sped to the front of the pack to lead them to where she knew there should be some of those creepy dimension-portal things and they followed. There was a long hallway of doors, all identical, but the Slayer remembered passing three before being knocked out and so she led them to the fourth door posthaste.

"C'mon," she muttered, bracing herself to give them a boost through the shiny metal substance that made up the portal. "You first," she directed at the younger kids. Luckily they weren't in the mood to argue and readily used her braced hand as a step to the oogly door.

Lily was the last to go and she stopped, smiling at the Slayer. "Thank you again," she whispered, and there was a tear in her eye. "You really will be a great mom," she told the other blonde; there was a strange certainty to her words that the Slayer had never seen in the girl before, "Trust me."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked, the question torn from her deepest insecurities.

"Because you won't let yourself be anything less."

There was nothing the Slayer could say to that and so she boosted Lily up, just in time as the metallic sludge suddenly hardened, turning into a solid sheet of metal. Buffy stared at it in disbelief for a full minute before the sound of scraping metal and breaking wood cut through her daze. This was not the time for shock, this was the time for action – and if there was one thing Slayers were good at, it was action. She dashed from the room and further down the hall, peering into each doorway to see yet another closed gate, finally towards the middle she saw one in the process of solidifying and realized that this must be a defense: all the gates were closing, it was a domino-effect meant to keep prisoners from escaping.

The Slayer put on a burst of speed, sprinting almost to the end of the corridor before turning sharply and jumping inside one of the rooms, leaping through the shining metal portal. She was breathing hard, but dropped immediately into a defensive stance as she took in the room in which she had landed. It looked like an average waiting room, but as she turned she saw the metal sludge she'd just leapt through solidify into a rather expensive-looking oriental rug. Huh, she would never look at interior decoration the same way again.

The room seemed to be deserted, which was dandy. It also had breathable air and looked a lot like waiting rooms she had seen in her own dimension, which was pretty darn awesome. Maybe, just maybe she was  _in_  her own dimension, only in someplace different like  _China_  or something.

With those comfortable thoughts in mind, Buffy took a step towards the door… and collapsed as the magic of the Slayer reacted with the magic of her new dimension.  _Shit, I hope this doesn't hurt my baby,_  was all Buffy had time to think before a haze covered her vision and she blacked out completely.


End file.
